


The Damon Baird Compilation

by TheMadSlasher



Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: Baird being mean, Baird-centric, Comedy, Compilation, Dark Comedy, Fourth Wall Breaking, Gen, M/M, Nightmares, Older Work, Parody, Rape, Revenge Fantasies, Revenge Sex, Sadist!Baird, Sick Humor, Torture, Victim!Marcus, blog posts, bootlicking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadSlasher/pseuds/TheMadSlasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of three short fics I wrote which center on the only character from Gears Of War I like: Damon Baird.</p><p>Contains graphic violence, sick humor, and lots of snarky complaining about basically everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Blog of Baird

**Author's Note:**

> This combines three short stories: "The Blog of Baird," "Revenge of the Nerd" and "Gears Of Cupcakes" (the last one being a satire of a particularly infamous MLP: FiM fanfic). 
> 
> "Revenge of the Nerd" in particular is older work so isn't up to my current standards. But since I am a Baird fan I wanted more Baird stuff on this website.

**Day 1**  
Demoted.

Again.

Fuckin Hoffman. I fixed the damn transport better than its ever run before, but he complained it took too long. Sorry for not doing a rushed patch-up job.

He bitched. I told him to get his colon irrigated. After he checked with the medic to find out what that was (retard), he demoted me.

Fuck you Hoffman. I'll take a shit on your grave.

Thank fuck this journal's on an encrypted fuckin server..

**Day 2**  
SHUT UP COLE!!!!

The man's a damn gasbag. He just spews catchphrases and thinks he's the best orator since Chairman fuckin Prescott (who sucks at speaking btw). At least he pretends to fuckin listen to me.

But when he just goes on in Thrashball talk I wanna stick a chainsaw in his head.

He picked me up and threw me on the goddamn ground screaming 'touchdown' like he was on more speed than usual.. my back still hurts like a bitch. Fuck I need some morphine.

**Day 3**  
Sera to Marcus and Dom: be more subtle!

What you guys are doing is a CAPITAL FUCKING CRIME. PUN FUCKING INTENDED. I got no problem with it but the COG never listens to me.

Yeah I know Dom; Marcus helps you feel good ever since you blew your wife's brains out, yeah yeah, whatever. Whiny bitch.

And yeah Marcus, I know that pounding Dom through the wall makes you feel more manly. I know the side effects of the steroids they pumped you with when you get enlisted were pretty hard on you. Balls the size of walnuts, etc.. I know that's bad for your fragile fuckin ego.

Yeah, so it makes ya both feel better. Just stop being so goddamn obvious! Internal Affairs will be on us like that and I don't wanna fuckin THINK what they'd suspect about Cole and I.

Edit: Nope, I ain't fucking Cole. And he sure as shit isn't fucking me. And I ain't complaining; I don't do idiots.

**Day 4**  
You know what I hate? Well, another thing to add to that list at least...

Twitter.

There's no fuckin point. Gotta condense things to 140 characters. Boil everything down to the retard's version.

Take your tweets and shove em.

No wonder this place sucks so hard. Everything's geared to the stupid. COG's philosophy for instance might as well be "smart is bad because it makes you disobedient."

No place in this world for the smart guy.

**Day 5**  
Building something. Fuck off.

**Day 6**  
As above.

**Day 7**  
Alright... made a barrel modification to my Lancer. More accurate now, almost no speed decrease. Well this will embarass the underfunded ballistics lab!

Oh, yeah, that lab was shut down. You know, no one left to do the research and all that.

Of course, no one will remember who made this modification. Fuckers. Maybe I'll keep it to myself.

But that's about as legal as Marcus and Dom.

So fucking what. Maybe this fuckin planet deserves to lose the war.

Yay for encrypted server.

**Day 8**  
Lets see... new music from the COG propaganda department. All hymns to being a grovelling little bitch to the Chairman.

No thanks.

**Day 9**  
Firefight today. Marcus got injured! Douche. Maybe I should visit him in the infirmary... his face grumpier than usual (!) and him sufferring, ahh yes, happy thoughts.

Can't be too hopeful to want some blood poisoning for the big jackass?

Yeah, probably too hopeful.

**Day 10**  
Saw Fuckhead Fenix. Dom didn't deliver flowers to him yet! Maybe they took my advice.

Yeah, like that would happen.

**Day 11**  
My birthday. I bought myself a bottle of love and drank it.

Cole remembered. But he just wanted to give me a noogie. No thanks. This hair takes effort!

On my second bottle now. Lets see, one other person remembered. More than last year!

Its a fuckin party here.

**Day 12**  
Unsurprisingly, no one's hacked this server yet. Heh, idiots. Comm infrastructure's all old pre-Pendulum Wars shit. COG just nationalized it. We all know what that does.

Plus I'm the only guy left that's smart enough to maintain this shit.

**Day 13**  
LAY OFF THE SPEED, COLE!

No Cole, I don't wanna play with the Cole Train. No, I don't wanna pull the Cole Train into the station.

Shouldn't you be over playing with your train set by now?

Look who's talking, I still keep my Meccano and Lego.

**Day 14**  
No Dom, I don't wanna hear your speech about the evils of individuality and the joys of sticking together.

Yes Dom, I know you borrowed Maria's eyeliner to fill in gaps on your oh-so-trademark perma stubble.

You fail cosmetology forever. Its not even convincing. No, we won't think you're less of a badass for having a patchy stubble.

Why do you even care what I think about how you groom? Dude, if you wanna care about what I think, why not care when I'm talking about smart shit!

**Day 15**  
Fenix, you suck.

Yeah I know, you failed to save your daddy, whine whine whine. And now you want to redeem yourself by making your replacement daddy (Hoffman) approve of you.

Nope, I ain't gonna make the joke about maybe you shoulda got a replacement daddy when you were being raped in prison.

Note to self, find the footage of Marcus getting raped in Jacinto Prison. Now that would be fucking priceless.

Anyway, Fenix, just scowl and speak only in single-syllable words, I'm sure that makes your daddy issues much more manly.

You're a fucking joke.

**Day 16**  
Dom's walking funny today. I wonder why.

Fenix, use more lube on the guy. Jeez..

**Day 17**  
Firefight again. Oh joy, we lost our food supply for the weekend.

Not that I care. Was basically the Chairman's freeze-dried puke. Not much worth fighting over.

My stash of tasty stuff's hidden in my lockbox. I can live on that. Real prime meat. Not Brumak Jerky.

**Day 18**  
Hey, without food, Cole's not constantly pestering me! Maybe I need to get him put on calorie restriction.. just hack the med database, falsify a report and presto, Cole Train derailed.

**Day 19**  
Day 2 without food, and Dom's moping.

"Waaah! My parents are dead!" Join the fucking club. Yeah, I know, your parents actually gave a fuck about you, but still. Yer probably just trying to get another pity-fuck from Fenix.

**Day 20**  
I can't stand these people. Fenix acts like he's got something up his ass, Dom just wants Fenix up his ass, and Cole's just an ass.

**Day 21**  
Food supply back. Wish I could eat though. Marcus and Dom are too busy fucking and being a distraction.

EDIT: Dom just shouted "Maria!" at the top of his lungs. Oh shit, I'm gonna laugh myself to sleep tonight. At least the first three letters are correct though!

**Day 22**  
Memo to Fenix: your name fails spelling forever. Can't believe someone with a father as smart as yours would be so fucking stupid.

Memo to Dom: You know, it would probably remind you more of your dead wife if you fucked Marcus rather than the other way around. Of course Marcus is too insecure to let you. Typical.

Memo to Cole: I only tolerate you because you occasionally pretend to listen. Don't think I actually like you.

Memo to Hoffman: Die horribly. Of anal cancer. Or just drink some imulsion and make things easier.

Memo to Anya: Fenix is using you as a beard.

Memo to you: No, I did NOT have a happy fuckin day, thank you very fuckin much.

**Day 23**  
Promoted again.

Like this'll last. Minute they get pissed off when I tell'em how fucked we are, they'll shoot the fucking messenger back to Pvt.

I don't fucking care. Never wanted to be a soldier anyway.

**End of Log**


	2. Revenge of the Nerd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Older story (and not nearly as well-written as my recent stuff). In which Baird vents frustration by fantasizing about getting some delicious tasty payback.

**Revenge of the Nerd**

"....Sergeant Fenix."

These were the last words Damon Baird wanted to hear coming out of that tac/com; Hoffman's usual bark worsened with radio interference. The sound confirmed everything he knew about the COG. Baird inhaled, deeply.  
"Sergeant?!" He walked behind the newly appointed Sergeant, teeth gritted.  
"Typical, don't give the smart guy the promotion! Give it to the jackass instead..." He paced away from Fenix, arms slackening at his sides, head shaking. Did command have any fucking idea how stupid Fenix was? Does that even matter to.. he stopped.

And then he smiled.

Cole went off talking, but Baird looked away, gazing at the building's walls, grinning as he thought about what he wished he could do...

***

Fenix was naked. His muscular body restrained by leather straps around his wrists and ankles; the ankle straps pulling his legs wide. 

Baird, also naked, gazed at his captive, smirking at the sight.

"Got a problem moving Fenix?"

"Doesn't take a smart man to realize that" Fenix growled back.

"Obviously; you realized it!" Baird retorted. He noticed Fenix's body, more scarred than his, but more muscled, dark body hair emerging irregularly, Fenix's cock hanging limply between his thick thighs.

"Sergeant," Baird continued, "You must've sucked Hoffman dry to get that one! Or wiped his ass for him! Fucking errand boy you are!"

"Shut up Baird."

"No!" Baird bellowed back, "I won't shut the fuck up. I'll say what I fucking think of you, Hoffman, the whole fucking COG! Fuck you all!"

Fenix didn't reply, he merely glared.

"Glare all you want. You're just a fucking grunt that needs people like me to fix the guns and the tanks. All you got is a few more stripes. Hell, here's some more!"  
Baird's knuckles impacted into Fenix's face, a sickening crack resonating through the air.

A suppressed grunt of angered pain emerged from Fenix's mouth as stripes of blood started dripping down his cheek.

Baird gazed at his victim as his lips curled upwards, his teeth bared in delight at seeing Fenix suffer.  
"You are what's wrong with this fucking world Fenix!"

Fenix didn't reply.

"Just do what Hoffman says, be a good soldier, don't think, no, never think!"  
Baird grabbed Fenix by the neck, pressing his thumb into the brute's adam's apple, smirking again at the growly gurgle that came from Marcus' mouth.  
"If there is one thing I'd wish... I'd want all you meat-heads to get off the steroids and do something..." he released Marcus' throat before withdrawing his arm.  
He then raised it, bringing his fist down on Fenix's nose again  
"GROW..." he bellowed, raising his arm, swinging his fist at the brute's left cheek.  
"A FUCKING..." flecks of his spittle splattered onto Fenix's bloodstained face.  
"BRAIN!" The back of his fist crashing into the monolithic Sergeant's right cheek, another crunch emerging from the bones beneath.

Baird took a deep breath, his knuckles red with Fenix's vitae, his teeth grinding together, a hissing exhale followed as he turned away momentarily. He couldn't look in the face of that pathetic excuse for a man.  
"Typical. Being smart doesn't matter in this fucking world," Baird said, voice deadpan.

Fenix struggled against the bonds, his face felt like it had just been imploded, warm blood trickling down his neck. He fought animalistically, arms randomly jerking at the restraints.

"Fight or flight, hey prick?" Baird replied, not through a smirk but with the cold observance of a scientist. He walked forward, studying his subject keenly, positioning himself between Fenix's thighs.

Marcus' eyes went wide as he felt Damon's hardness brush between his cheeks. His mouth opened slightly.

"Surprised? Didn't guess I'd do this? You're dumber than a fucking brick Sarge! Didn't get your Dad's smarts huh?"

A savage growl was Fenix's reply.

"Ooh! I found a soft spot!" Baird exclaimed, sarcastically jubilant. "Speaking of that," he continued, smiling.  
Baird thrust forward. Without lube.

"AWRGHHGH-FUCKING-HELL-BAIRD-GET-THAT-FUCKING-THING-OUT-OF-MY-ASS-YOU-PRICK!!!"  
Fenix roared through a clenched jaw and brow twisted in agony, his face distorted in pain and rage, roars oscillating between growls and near-cries, screams frantically held back. The brute thrashed against the restraints again, uncoordinated animalistic jerking just hoping for some sort of good luck.

"Stop trying Fenix" Baird groaned in a tone of deadpanned indifference, "Just take it like the obedient little bitch you are," again in the same tone. Baird continued jackhammering forth into Fenix's tight hole.  
"Never been fucked before huh? Too insecure about your manhood huh? Typical, you'll pound Dom through the wall but can't take what you dish out..." Baird scoffed.  
It wasn't long before Baird climaxed. He didn't see any reason to take any longer than necessary, pulling out as soon as he was finished.

Fenix lay there, his own cock now erect. His face became flushed, he didn't want to ask for this... He looked over at Baird, he was getting into the lower half of his armor plating.  
"Baird..."

The blond looked over at Fenix, noticing the hardon.  
"You think I care Fenix?"

"Baird..." he stopped, be took a breath, closing his eyes slightly... Baird would've swore it was a look of shame on the brute's face.  
"Get me off Baird... however..."

Baird was agape at the request. "You'd want me to do that? After I did that? What the fuck is wrong with you Fenix?!"

"Just.... what do I have to do?"

A sinister grin spread its way across Baird's face, _how low will this sick fuck sink? There's nothing wrong with getting off, but man, there are limits to how far you should go to get off!_ He finished clamping the lower half of his armor shut and walked over to the restraining table, his metal boots making their familiar stomping sounds over the concrete floor. He grabbed a pair of carbon-steel cuffs from a side table, making sure they were slapped around Fenix's wrists as soon as he undid the table restraints. 

Fenix didn't try anything funny as Baird dragged him off the table.

"On the floor you sick fuck."

Fenix grunted in reply.

Baird thrust the toe of his boot towards the kneeling Sergeant. "Show some respect."

"Aww fuck Baird... can't you just..."

"You wanna get off? Then lick it."

Fenix grumbled, hesitated.. and then he prostrated himself before Damon, his tongue traveling across the metal toe.

As he looked down at the tamed animal, Baird's eyes widened in shock. Part of him felt satisfied at Fenix's humiliation, how he'd relinquish every scrap of dignity just to get an orgasm out of this. He spoke down to the grovelling mass of meat before him, "yeah, what you'll give up just to cum. You're not a man Fenix... alright," Baird continued, tone sounding almost frustrated, "on your back, I'll give you what you want you animal."

Fenix didn't even answer back as he turned over, his face cringing with embarrassment. He didn't question Baird's judgments of him, he didn't know how.

Baird brought his boot up and pushed Fenix's cock against his abdomen using its sole. He then moved the sole up and down the underside of Fenix's shaft, jerking Fenix off with the sole of his boot. Fenix's cock started leaking precum over his abdomen, whimpers emerging from the massive man as he writhed with pleasure under the boot of Baird.  
"Hmm... rrrrgh... Baird..."

Baird's expression of shock had given way to one of disdain. He didn't want this to take much longer, the disdain robbed any pleasure out of this. He rubbed harder, hoping it would speed up the process. It did, Fenix came soon after, shooting all over his scarred musculature.

Fenix's soft breathing provided a rhythm that was broken by the crack of Damon kicking his head, knocking him out cold. Baird just stood there, looking at the wreckage of a creature that Fenix was, face masked in his own blood, body covered with his own cum, lying on the floor. Damon felt not joy at the breaking of Fenix, only an overwhelming sense of pity for this wretched excuse for a human being, this creature that lacked any dignity at all. He didn't break Fenix; Fenix was already broken.

***

"Screw that, I got an idea" Dom said, calmly. All Baird heard was the prelude to more idiocy from Marcus' right hand retard.  
"Oh yeah, what is it smart guy?"  
"Enough! Let's move" grumbled the brute, dragging the squad further into the burning streets.

**THE END**


	3. Gears Of Cupcakes: A Parody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satire of the infamous MLP:FiM fic "Cupcakes." In which the really crappy food on Sera finally drives Damon to the brink of madness...

**Gears Of Cupcakes  
A Parody**

"Shit," grumbled Sergeant Fenix as he tried to move and realized he couldn't. _First Cole died, now this...._ his eye scanned the room but all he could make out was an inky haze floating beyond his retina. As his iris adjusted, he made out the familiar goggled form in the shadows.

"Baird! Lemme the fuck go!" he barked in the most badass 'Sergeant Fenix' voice he possibly could. Baird ignored him and remained hunched over a tray.

He moved his eyes and saw what he wished wasn't true. Thick leather straps held him down to an operating table that lay at a steep incline. Thin tendrils of light filtered through the cracks of the room's walls, but the light was too diffused to provide real illumination. Fenix's heartrate began to increase but he made no expression of it. The air licked at his completely naked body. His limbs were all spread out widely, leaving every part of his body defenseless.

"Come on, Fenix," Baird began in his usual tone of deadpan mockery, "I thought you'd be happy! After all, this is your fuckin' party!" Baird stood up from the tray and then began moving towards one of the walls.

Fenix raised one eyebrow. Party? Both eyebrows instantly shot upwards as the light came on. So did his heart rate.

On the back wall of the room were letters painted in the familiar rusted red-brown color of dried blood. _IT'S A FUCKING PARTY DOWN HERE!_

Baird turned away from the light switch and began arrogantly striding over to Marcus. His face bore a depraved, sadistic leer.

"So, ya finally cracked, huh Baird?" Marcus said in a flat growl.

"Told ya that making me wade through all those sewers would come back to bite you in the ass, Fenix!" Damon replied with an almost cheerful snarl. He then raised a straw-colored eyebrow. "What? No compliment on my new tux?"

Fenix looked down at Baird's "tux." It seemed to be made out of something tough and almost leathery... a dark brown rather.. _oh fuck_. A furious roar lept out of Marcus' throat.

Baird smirked even as he felt the droplets of Fenix's spittle land on his face. "Don't worry, I made it easy for Cole. It was quick and painless, and c'mon, I needed a new fuckin' tux!"

"He was the only person that actually could stand you, Baird." Marcus' stony stare was a mask for his complete lack of comprehension. A bead of nervous sweat dripped off his forehead even if his face made no twitch.

"Which is why he died painlessly. As for you, well no, its gonna hurt like fuck! And Dom..." Baird's leer got worse.

Another hate-filled roar shot out of Fenix's lungs. "YOU SICK FUCK!!"

"Awwww, wanna be protective of your bitch, huh Fenix?" Baird began pouting, "because you're the only man that's allowed to hurt Dom huh? Because his constant cries of 'MARIA!!!' when you jam it into him are keeping me up at night and I can't stand it any more and so I'm gonna kill you both?"

Baird pulled the tray close. Marcus saw the harsh fluorescent light cast an even harsher gleam on the array of cold steel blades and syringes lying there. _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck...._

"But no, it wasn't really the lack of sleep which pissed me off like this..." Baird continued as he picked up a scalpel, "it was the motherfuckin' food."

Fenix raised an eyebrow.

"Yep, the food," Baird continued as he focused on how the light made the edge of the scalpel glitter. "Brumak Jerky for lunch, Hoffman's freeze-dried regurgitations for dinner, sawdust for breakfast. Or in your case, Dom's jizz for breakfast."

Marcus only growled in response. More stray drops of nervous sweat snaked down his naked, muscular torso.

Baird looked into Marcus' eyes again. His leer only got larger. "You know what I really miss? Well, before the Department Of Nutrition And Societal Health nationalized the fuckin' bakeries to 'ensure the health of young Serans so they may serve society better,' the bakery down the road from my place had some fuckin' tasty cupcakes. So light and fluffy inside and slathered with the thickest chocolate frosting that tasted just like molten milk chocolate.." Baird's gaze wandered as he remembered the texture of the frosting as his teeth sank into the yielding layer of sugary lusciousness.

"Get to the point, Baird."

Damon rolled his eyes and groaned. "Thanks for taking me out of my yummy flashback, asshole. Anyway," he took a breath and walked closer to Fenix with scalpel in hand, "I found out this fuckin' tasty cupcakes recipie. So now I actually get to eat something that doesn't taste like shit. And unfortunately, the batch I made Cole into has ran out."

Fenix couldn't decide if he should gag or laugh. His breathing came rapid, his heart pounded and his eyes darted left and right from the floor to the ceiling to Baird's face to the scalpel to the Cole-tux to the letters in blood back to Baird's face again and... yet...

"Okay, so you wake up strapped to an operating table with blood writing on the walls and I'm wearing a suit made out of my best friend's skin and the only think you can think about is the fact I'm making human flesh cupcakes, huh?"

Fenix tried to nod, but the leather strap across his forehead prevented him.

"You're so fuckin' predictable, Fenix. Yeahyeahyeah, you can't bake with human flesh, heard that one before. They'd taste terrible, yeah maybe, but they taste better than what they fuckin' feed us now, so whatever. Anyway, we've established motive and all that shit, so let's just get down to business!"

Fenix clenched his jaw harder. He wouldn't let Baird have the satisfaction of making him scream.

Baird then looked at the scalpel again. "Nope, too easy" he said as he quickly placed it back on the tray.

Marcus looked away as he saw Damon's fingers wrap around the handle of what looked like a ten-inch knife. His teeth began to grind against each other and his brow furrowed. A frustrated growl wormed its way up from his lungs. He clamped his eyes shut.

"So Fenix, when was the last time Dom fucked you? Oh, wait, I forgot, you don't let him fuck you because you think that would emasculate you, huh? Because you wanna be the big bad alpha dog, huh? Well I think you need to get fucked, and since there's no way in hell I'm gonna stick my dick in a Hoffman-fellating fuckstain like you, I'm gonna use this!"

_Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck_ he thought as he gulped. His teeth ached from how hard he was clenching them together but all he could think about was how Baird was going to knife-rape him. His face began to twitch as he ground against the operating table; the cracked leather surface seemed slickened with his sweat.

"Don't worry, I'll use lube!" Baird continued with false consideration.

Against his better judgment, Fenix opened his eyes. He witnessed Baird slathering the blade with lube. Immediately, he clamped his eyes shut again.

"Like you'd know, Fenix, but blood's a coagulant and not a lubricant. What would a dumb fuck like you know about lube anyway? After all you never used enough on Dom going by how funny he walked the next day..." Baird then looked over at Fenix's form. Then he began to walk over.

Damon's latex-glove-clad hands brushed Fenix's cock and balls aside and positioned the knife right below the asshole Sergeant's asshole. And then in one smooth shove, Baird rammed the knife deep into Marcus's rectum.

Baird gleefully observed Fenix's face. For a moment, it looked like Marcus was indeed being fucked; the jaw was clamped shut, the eyes were screwed tightly and the brow was contorted in agony. But then the Sergeant's mouth opened and an anguished roar shot from the man's lungs with the force of a jet engine. The sonic tsunami echoed off the concrete walls.

Baird let out a satisfied, dark chuckle at the look of sheer agony on Fenix's face. The chuckle immediately stopped as he heard a mixture of a clang and a splash; he looked between Fenix's legs and saw that the knife had been evacuated from the dark-haired man's anus alongside the contents of Marcus's bowels. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the reek of feces.

"Well fuckin' thank you," Baird said in a quick and frustrated rasp as he raised his hands in exasperation. He began to pace around, "really?!? Do you have even the slightest fuckin' idea about how hard it is to keep a torture dungeon clean?!? Thanks for making even more work for me... shit, just like normal, huh Sarge? Do this, do that, fix this, fix that, play fetch with Cole, etcetera etcetera, and now clean up my shit!" Baird took a breath and resumed chuckling, "but now I'm glad I decided against fucking you with my cock!"

It wasn't the worst pain he'd ever felt. It was close, but it wasn't the worst. But feeling so powerless to stop it... so completely helpless and defenseless... so violated and penetrated and defiled and... Fenix tried to hold the vomit down in his stomach. Bile bubbled up his throat but he kept swallowing it down. The sticky trickle down the insides of his legs and the rancid smells moving past his nostrils made it an uphill battle. "Please, Damon... stop... or kill me quick or something..."

"No can do," Baird said with near-scientific indifference as he looked back at the tray. "Party ain't over yet."

Baird's leer returned as his cobalt gaze moved over what looked like the soldering iron. "I'm really tempted to say this party is really gonna get hotter but that would be the shittiest pun I could make," he said as he plugged the iron's extension lead into a portable generator behind the operating table.

Fenix's pupils went wide as he glimpsed the soldering iron in Baird's hand. "Fuck you Baird.... fuck you so much..."

"Last I remember you were the one getting fucked, meathead," Baird replied smugly. "Anyway, I customized this to make it much hotter than a typical soldering iron. So feel welcome to scream like the bitch you are."

Baird brought the red-hot tip of the iron to Fenix's skin. He watched how the Sergeant's epidermis almost bubbled when the metal touched it; the flesh practically dissolved into a biological sludge with a fizzing pop.

The synapse-shredding burn slithered up his right bicep like a snake made out of magma. His angered roar seemed to disintegrate with each passing second; the roar became interspersed with short, strangled cries that Fenix tried to stifle yet couldn't. He couldn't move his head and all he could hear was Baird's infuriating, smug, gloating chuckle right in his ear.

When Baird removed the iron, Fenix inhaled quickly. The smell of his own burning flesh registered and finally drove the nausea past boiling point; the metallic blood and decomposing feces mixed with the reek of his own evaporated skin ejected a torrent of vomit from his stomach and out of his mouth. The concoction of acid and bile splashed against the concrete floor.

"Awww, fuck. AGAIN!" Baird roared. "You know, this place is starting to smell like a fucking slaughterhouse!" Baird paused and quickly rolled his eyes, "well that makes fuckin' sense but still, this is REALLY gonna suck to clean up. I shudder to think what other body fluids we can get outta you at this rate! Blood and shit and puke... what's next? Well it ain't gonna be cum, don't get your hopes up..."

Damon placed the soldering iron back on the tray. "Shit, you'd never think torturing someone to death would be so damn boring..." he thought as he paced around the room again, taking care to step over the fluids Marcus had coated the floor with. "Your stoic act just makes you the torture equivalent of necrophilia..."

Damon looked back to the tray and suddenly his angry scowl became the closest approximation of childlike glee he could express; his gaze had discovered the ripsaw!

Marcus' downcast head only noticed the shadow of the saw on the ground, but that was enough. His shaky breaths were punctuated by the periodic drizzle of saliva and remnants of puke that kept dripping from his mouth. "Please Baird... you've had your fun. Just kill me now and get it over with."

Baird ignored him and approached the table. He quickly tied a torniquet around Fenix's upper left bicep and pulled it as tight as he could. Baird took Fenix's grunt as a cue to begin. "Coarse-toothed ripsaws are really fuckin' fun when they're a bit rusty and blunt."

The engineer laid the blade on the Sergeant's left bicep and chuckled when he noticed the dark-haired man's slight shudder. A few seconds later he took a breath and began to push the saw forward.

The jagged, filthy metal teeth didn't cut the flesh; they chewed it apart. Each cold ridge excavated a new path through Fenix's arm. The sound of torn squelches reached Baird's ears and served as the perfect background texture for Marcus's roaring cries of agony. Damon pushed the blade downwards with white-knuckled force and began to pull it back. Half way through the stroke, the wet ripping began to give way to an angry crunching grind. Damon could see the white bone and gray marrow fragments clinging to the saw's teeth as he fully pulled the tool back. The slow, steady drip of crimson only added to Baird's glee.

The ripping grinding tearing burn moving through his bicep obliterated every other sensation pulverizing his nerves; the only thing he could feel was the gritty blade's teeth gnashing through his arm. Each individual tooth wrenched a yell from his lungs. Even the rust on the side of the saw registered to his nerves; an additional jagged grinding texture dragged through his limb.

"There's something that's gotta be said for this... chainsaws are so fuckin' impersonal, they make it too quick and easy, press a button and the shithead loses a limb..." Baird spat the syllables out in a rapid stream, "now this just makes it so much more meaningful, huh Fenix?"

Fenix didn't even hear Damon; his entire world had been reduced to his own gasping roars and his left arm. Even his sliced asshole and burned right bicep had been washed away in the torrent of agony.

The metal-on-bone crunch finally faded out and only a few squelching tears remained. Sweat dripped off Baird's brow as the saw shredded through the skin at the base of Fenix's bicep. He tossed the ripsaw back onto the tray before he chuckled again.

"Ahhh, yeah, I finally got you to scream! Man, I even had to break a sweat!"

Fenix's screams were slowly replaced by a mixture of groans, wheezing gasps, and even a few strangled whimpers. Fenix tried to swallow them, but simply couldn't. His field of vision was wreathed in twisting mirages; _blood loss..._  
"End it... please... anything... just..."

"Yeah yeah, quit bitching," Baird replied as he picked up a pistol from the cart and aimed it at his leader's face. He moved closer and placed the gunbarrel right against Fenix's forehead.

The cool ring of metal resting there felt like something he knew Baird didn't have for him. _End it. Please_.

Immediately, Baird swung the pistol downwards and pulled the trigger.

Fenix gasped, barely holding back a yelp, as he felt the hot metal blast through his cock and balls. He saw them right there; his cock had been blasted off half-way down the shaft and his testicles had been shredded. Gouts of blood splashed onto the floor, joining the coagulated pool from earlier.

"On second thought," Baird said through his arrogant smirk as he removed the tourniquet, "I'll let you bleed out. Too much blood in the cupcakes makes 'em too moist."

Fenix didn't even respond as he heard Damon's footsteps slowly fade. The haze intensified; the agony seemed to dull around the edges. His field of vision contracted inward. He could barely register when Baird switched off the lights.

\-------

"COLE! WAKE UP!"

The hands holding him down only made him struggle.

"C'mon, Cole, stop... OWW! LISTEN! You're having a fucking nightmare! WAKE UP!!!"

Cole's eyes shot open and he saw that face; the same blond, goggle-wearing psychotic that turned him into a tuxedo and sawed off Marcus's arm and... and...

The light turned on. Baird was sitting on the floor on the other side of the room, finger on the switch.

Cole fell silent and took a breath. "Damon, baby... sorry..."

"Yeah yeah, it's happened before. Goodnight." Baird switched off the light again and got up. He turned towards the entrance.

"Wait... Baird.." Cole asked.

Baird turned around, groaned and rolled his eyes. "If it helps, wanna bunk with me?"

Cole got up and looked at his friend. He didn't move, his heart still pounded.

"C'mon. What's the worst I could do to you?"

**THE END**


End file.
